


Mace reacts to: Darth Vader (this episode: Bespin Duel)

by SmonksTheMuse



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Mace watches Vader's Drama, Not-A-Force-Ghost-But-Still-Watching-Your-Shit-From-Beyond!Mace, he can't look away, it's like a combination of a soap opera and a train wreck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-07 12:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8800594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmonksTheMuse/pseuds/SmonksTheMuse
Summary: Request from Pomrania on tumblr; 'a non-Force ghost Jedi, killed due to Anakin’s Shenanigans, watching Vader’s life like a tragic soap opera’ (I’m paraphrasing). As you can see, I chose Mace Windu.





	1. At the top of the stairs

“The Force is with you, young Skywalker.” Vader paused, dramatically. “But you are not a Jedi yet.”

Mace glared at the hulking figure. “You had better not hurt him, Vader.”

He was payed no attention, of course, being dead and incorporeal. But he was used to it, and continued to speak to the living, despite the fact that it was about as useful as screaming at the characters on a holodrama.

There were a lot of parallels between that and what Mace was doing, which he declined to think about.

Luke walked slowly up the stairs, coming to stand before Vader. His eyes were determined, his back straight and his shoulders set in unwavering resolve.

None of this made the boy appear any less tiny next to his durasteel giant of a father.

The two stood silently for a moment, looking at each other. Luke clearly assessing his opponent, while Vader, Mace had the distinct impression, was simply taking in the sight of his son.

His son who, Mace desperately hoped, would somehow manage to escape his father’s grasp and avoid being captured, as he miraculously had so many times before.

Luke was the first to ignite his saber, quickly dropping into a passable offensive stance. Vader, after a moment, followed suit; he did not bother with stances, however, nor even with a two-handed grip.

Not that Mace could find fault in it; Luke’s obvious lack of skill in lightsaber combat - as well as his less-than-imposing physical stature - did not exactly warrant any more than a one-handed effort.

They held their lightsabers crossed between them, a brilliant red-and-blue X, until Luke struck, swinging his weapon up and around quickly. Vader blocked easily, and responded with a light tap against Luke’s saber before bringing his own back in a wide arc in front of him.

“Oh, kriffing hell,” Mace muttered. Already he could tell that Luke had no chance of holding his own against his father, should he decide to be less gentle.

And gentle, Mace knew as he watched the ‘duel’ progress, was exactly what Vader was being. He did not attack when Luke was left open; in fact he barely attacked at all, merely blocking Luke’s strikes and pushing the boy back. He even gave ground when Luke moved forward.

When Vader  _did_  attack, it was purposefully slow and careless, giving Luke ample time to evade the blow that was never intended to harm him in the first place.

“You have learned much, young one,” Vader praised.

Mace scoffed and shook his head. “That’s just cruel.” It was unkind for Vader to offer such approval, when the boy was not succeeding by any standard. What made it worse, though, was that Mace could tell Vader truly meant to encourage his son.

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises,” Luke snarled. Mace nearly cringed at the bravado.  _Please, child, don’t embarrass yourself further._

Luke lunged forward, adopting a one-handed grip to match Vader’s. Unfortunately, he did not have matching strength behind it, and after a mere four strikes his saber was twisted out of his hand, falling to the bottom of the stairs and shutting off automatically.


	2. By the Carbonite pit

Luke let out a yelp as the lightsaber was torn from his hand. It fell with a clatter to the bottom of the steps, and he flung himself gracelessly after it. Vader - who had, of course, let the opportunity to make the killing blow pass him by - brought his saber down with less-than-impressive speed, just as Luke vacated the spot he had previously occupied in favor of rolling down the stairs after his weapon.

Mace wished he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Even in death, there was no escape from Skywalker-induced headaches.

Truly, though, the situation was worrisome; Vader might allow this little scuffle to continue for a while, but when he decided it had gone far enough, it would be no challenge for him to bring things to his desired end.

And the longer Luke continued tiring himself out in this futile fight, the smaller his chances of escape became.

Luke came to a stop at the bottom of the steps, and Vader jumped, forcing him to quickly roll further back; though Vader had left quite a bit of room for him to do so, landing where Luke’s hands had been, rather than his head.

The boy got to his feet, pausing for a moment in a low crouch, one hand on the ground, before rising to a wary stand, knees still bent and shoulders hunched.

“Your destiny lies with _me,_ Skywalker,” Vader asserted. “Obi-Wan knew this to be true.”

Luke’s eyes flashed, and he straightened, raising his chin defiantly. “ _No._ ”

Instantly, the Carbonite freezing chamber whirred to life. Luke was clearly spooked by the sudden noise, and he backed up as Vader stepped closer. His feet, already mere inches from the edge of the pit, were perilously close now. Luke was not aware of this; he couldn’t take his eyes off the shining red saber Vader held between them.

Mace felt it through the Force when Vader raised his hand and pushed Luke into the chamber. Luke cried out as he fell, landing heavily on his side, and looked up frantically.

“All too easy,” Vader said. He turned to the Carbonite chamber’s controls and, again using the Force, brought down the switch. The switch that would freeze Luke, deliver him into his father’s control, and guarantee either his turn to the Dark Side - 

Or his death.

 “Get the hell out of there, Skywalker!”

As white fog began to pour out of the machinery, and as Mace prayed to the Force for Luke to escape, a blur leapt out of the pit, impossibly fast, straight up to the wires and hoses on the ceiling above.

“ _Yes_ , dammit,” Mace growled triumphantly.

Vader, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed the boy’s jump to – relative – safety. He looked down into the Carbonite chamber, obscured by fog though it was. “Perhaps you are not as strong as the Emperor thought.”

There was loud clang from the tangle of cords above, where Luke hung. Vader’s helmeted head jerked up at the noise, and Luke looked down over his shoulder, continuing to climb.

“Impressive,” Vader said, though it wasn’t, really. He swung his lightsaber up towards Luke’s dangling legs, but avoided hitting him by a safe margin, merely severing a thick hose, which sparked brightly and began spewing the white fog of Carbonite condensation.

“Most impressive,” he approved.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic and others can be found on my tumblr: vintage-smokestack.tumblr.com


End file.
